Care and Feeding
by wneleh
Summary: A bit of post-Quarantine McShep slash fluff.


Care and Feeding

(A bit of post-Quarantine McShep fluff)

by Helen W.

After everything settles down, John heads to the cafeteria for a snack. Without a pressing reason to leave, he ends up hanging around through dinnertime, mostly listening - everyone's got a story - and just generally being happy to be alive.

The first time he overhears someone talking about him scaling the outside of the control tower, he can't help but strain to catch what they're saying because, damn, he was good. But then he imagines Rodney crossing his arms and saying, "Yes, and you breaking the window initiated the self-destruct, Colonel Idiot." And in return he'd have to point out that it was Rodney's protocols that started the whole thing. And then he'd end up feeling bad for taking a dig at Rodney, so maybe it's a good thing Rodney seems to be dining elsewhere.

Across from him, Ronon's envious. While Sheppard and Radek Freakin' Zelenka had been saving everyone's asses, all he'd managed to do this afternoon was wreck an oxygen tank. But at least he's one up on Rodney McKay. "Hey, did you hear?" he says, "McKay thought it was a real outbreak. He started getting sick. Thought he was..."

He's interrupted by Jennifer Keller's "Hi", and completely forgets that he was talking.

John laughs a little because, yeah, Ronon's story is so typically Rodney.

More stories get tossed around. A marine comes in on crutches and gets ribbed universally for his 6" leg gash, gotten doing some damn fool thing. John doesn't bother to ask for details; he'll get the report tomorrow. One of the mechanics says he learned to play a six-string. A cook comes out to ooh and ahh over Teyla's stomach, which makes everyone twitch, but all in all there are far worse ways to spend a couple of hours.

It's going-on-7 by the time John buses his tray and leaves, and Rodney hasn't even made a pass-through to check out the dessert options. John decides to take this as a good sign - Rodney's probably off exploring second base with Katie Brown. Maybe even third.

Maybe he should give Rodney a book on the facts of life or something. Or download some quality porn for him.

The thought of him and Ronon and, hell, might as well include Radek, providing play-by-play through "Deep Throat" has John smiling to himself as he's walking through the atrium at the base of the control tower. He pictures Rodney screaming bloody murder during the entire film - and, for all John knows, Rodney was the stud of Siberia, but John'll never let on that he believes any of it. It'll be great.

So when John sees Katie Brown coming toward him wheeling a cart of yellow flowers and the most disturbingly phallic-looking cactus he's ever seen, he gapes for a minute, because she shouldn't be there, wearing those awful scrub-like outfit the botanists have decided is their work uniform. She should be in her quarters, or Rodney's, dressed - well, now's not the time to start imagining Katie Brown in silk and lace.

Katie would rather not see him either, but once she realizes that he's looking her way she smiles. "Good evening, Colonel," she says, and they both wish her voice didn't quiver.

"So, um, are... " and it occurs to John that maybe Rodney hasn't popped the question yet.

"He's all yours now," she says, and her word choice surprises her. She's never let her jealousy of John Sheppard show before. All these months, when she's thought Rodney was closed to her because he got everything he needed from the man in front of her, she's been sweet and shy whenever their paths have crossed. The way she always is.

Now it's really not worth the bother.

But, anyway, she was wrong. Rodney clearly hasn't been getting what he needs anywhere.

"Who's - what's..." starts John, confused.

"I mean, he's free to devote all his energy to his work," she says. And therapy, she thinks. Mustn't forget the therapy.

"You said no?"

"Not exactly," she says. "But I'm not what he wants, and I'm not what he needs, and I don't think... I mean, he can be very sweet, but... A life needs some happiness in it."

"I think that's what you can give him," says John, wondering how to salvage things for Rodney. He should be able to do this, for Rodney of all people.

But Katie says, "I mean, MY life needs some happiness in it. Today... I just don't know how..."

"What did Rodney DO?" John asks. "Poison your plants?"

Katie shakes her head. "Colonel, you're his friend. Talk to him."

John nods, and as soon as he's a safe distance away from her he speaks into his headset. "McKay?"

There's nothing for a moment, then, "Yes, Colonel."

"You in your quarters?"

"Yes."

"Stay there."

When John gets there, Rodney's lying flat on his bed staring upward. John takes a quick peek to make sure an alien isn't clinging to the ceiling, then crosses his arms and says, "What the hell did you do to Katie?"

"Nothing," says Rodney. He sounds petulant even to himself, so he adds, "I just realized some things about myself today, and so did Katie. About me, I mean."

"What sort of things?"

"That I'm an idiot and a coward."

John doesn't even think that's worth responding to.

Rodney blows out a breath and says, "It was awful. I can't even begin... I couldn't DO anything. The doors wouldn't open. I didn't have a computer. Or even a, a PDA. And I felt like shit..."

"I'd've thought there'd be worse things than being trapped with the woman you wanted to marry. I mean, I'm pretty sure Ronon and Keller spent the time making out."

"WHAT?"

John shrugs. "Well, wanting to, at least. Something's changed between them."

"Well, bully for Ronon," says Rodney. He really could have lived the evening without gossip about Ronon's love life.

"So what did you do? Play cards?" Maybe Rodney DID poison her plants, though John can't imagine how. Trying to cook up explosives?

"I don't really remember. Colonel, I was DYING. There was nothing I could do and I was dying." Held to the floor, or so it had felt at the time. And so alone.

Alone? Where had that come from?

"And what was Katie doing?" John asked.

"She was..." and Rodney realizes that he can't answer. "Standing around? Honestly, I didn't really pay attention."

"Really."

"Yes, really! I told you, I demonstrated complete lack of compassion and - and whatever it is that a woman looks for in a man."

"She said that?"

"It was obvious!"

"So, Katie wasn't taking care of you?"

"What? Of course not."

"You said you thought you were dying. What were you doing? Climbing the walls? Trimming her ferns?"

"I - I had to lie down."

"Did she give you anything to eat? She must know you well enough to know that's always a good idea."

"YOU never give me any of your food."

"I'M not your girlfriend."

"I don't even know if she had anything," says Rodney. "Anyway, I wasn't hungry. And that's not what I needed! I needed her to yell at me, tell me to get my ass off the floor. Like you would have done." Yes, that's it. God, he was pathetic.

John steps closer, until he's almost directly above Rodney. He's seen Rodney look more miserable, but not when imminent death was unlikely.

"So should I be telling you to buck up now?"

"Frankly, Colonel, I don't give a damn."

"Well. Let me show you what I'd have done this afternoon if we'd been stuck in a botany lab together."

"You'd have found a way out."

"Maybe. But let's pretend I'm Katie instead. Here's what I'd have done if I was her."

John looks around - the room is neat, nothing out of place, so he goes to the closet and, yes, there, on the top shelf, is a spare blanket. He grabs it and crosses back to Rodney's bed; Rodney hasn't moved. "If I thought you were going into shock, I'd be elevating your legs, but you don't look shocky. When did you last eat?"

"I had a couple of power bars earlier," Rodney replies.

"Okay, that's good enough. So let's go straight to keeping you toasty."

John unfurls the blanket, and it falls over Rodney. For an instant, the rush of air is chilling, but the sensation passes as quickly as he registers it. Then, there's warmth everywhere.

John tucks the edges under Rodney along the length of his body. "Comfy?" he asks, staying crouched at Rodney's side.

"Not really." Maybe a little.

"Feel better?"

"No." Yes.

"Well, then I'll have to keep trying," John says, keeping his eyes fixed on Rodney's. Come on, Rodney, he thinks, believe you're worth this.

Staying crouched, he reaches forward - there's hardly any distance between them anyway - and touches Rodney's forehead with the balls of his fingers, then gently strokes downward, over sideburns and stubble, to where Rodney's neck disappears beneath t-shirt and blanket.

Rodney holds completely still for the space of several breaths, while John begins again, then has to say, "This isn't something... this isn't how we are. Were. Katie wouldn't have presumed... that I would have liked this."

"Do you like this?"

"John, please!" though he doesn't know what he's asking. Please don't do this. Please don't stop. Please don't mock me. Please...

John pulls back a bit - he wants to be able to see Rodney when he says this, because lines like this don't come to him every day. "Really, McKay," he deadpans, "I don't think Katie was a very good girlfriend."

Maybe his delivery wasn't as good as he thought it was, because Rodney just looks annoyed, then hurt, then he's rolling away from him. "Just go!" he says.

"Rodney!" And John scrambles, because he's nothing if not good in a crisis, and rolls Rodney back; and he almost stops there because he knows that there are some things you can't back down from, but he has to get that expression off of Rodney's face, has to get so close that he can't see it even if it stays there, so he aims his mouth at Rodney's and moves his lips in what he really, really, really hopes is a credible approximation of a kiss.

Rodney knows that this is where he's supposed to tell John to knock it off, stop being a jerk, just STOP. Or maybe punch him or something, just for form's sake. But he doesn't want to...

But then he realizes that, damn it, he's Dr. M. Rodney McKay, and, okay, he has issues, but he's not that pitiful, so, after a second - of, well, this is more lip massage than kissing, really - he moves his head away and sits up and... huh, John's looking at him like someone just popped his balloon. "Colonel..."

"Can we leave the fucking rank out of this, please?" John snaps.

"Yes, okay, naturally," Rodney says. "John, I can't do this and not mean it. Maybe that's why Katie and I weren't very - um, physical? Maybe we knew, somewhere, somehow, that we weren't meant to be, and we didn't... that is..."

"Rodney, I think - I seem to mean it."

"Well then, that changes things," says Rodney. He reaches toward John, who meets him halfway, rising from his crouch until he's halfway onto the bed and Rodney's halfway off it.

John's mouth feels wrong against his, and he stinks a bit, but it doesn't matter. And Rodney realizes that it also doesn't matter that he's still himself - still the most messed up person on Atlantis. But this isn't about building a perfect relationship.

Yeah, this feels weird, but so, so right. Like he can grab and hold and nothing else will ever matter, ever.

And John finds his body knows Rodney's, knows where and when to hold, to stroke, to let go. It's really very simple, the care and feeding of Rodney.

THE END

All feedback welcome, here or to helenw at murphnet dot org.


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